You Were All the Colours of the Earth
by Lavender and Hay
Summary: Isobel and Richard speculative S4 AU smut. Exploring that circular window at Crawley House. Rating going up with the next chapter.
1. Chapter 1

**This is just season 4 smut, or at least it will be tomorrow, based on the "That circular window at Crawley House" musing from this morning.**

"Isobel, you're beautiful."

The three words were quiet, whispered, punctuated by kisses. His hands held her face gently, keeping her close to him.

"Hardly."

It too was mumbled and mixed with the frantic touches of their lips together.

"Sorry?"

He could hardly hear her, and what she said was important to him, as much as he would like to be kissing her, kissing her and not stopping.

She pulled away from him.

"I said, "Hardly.""

"Hardly, what?"

She smiled at him a little. Biting her lip gently and exhaling. Her smile was not without its sadness; a sorrow glinted in the beautiful dark of her eyes.

"I said I'm hardly beautiful," she replied, taking hold of both his hands, twining their fingers together.

"Isobel-..." he told her warningly.

"No, I mean, I was," she continued, cutting across him, "Once. When I was younger. A long time ago. And then-... Matthew. You know I haven't felt... the same since he died. Richard," she murmured softly, her eyes glistening, "I haven't felt whole. How can someone who isn't whole be beautiful?"

His had pulled away from hers, reaching up to cup her cheek again, raising her head so that she looked him in the eyes. He felt a tenderness for her so acute that it almost brought him to his knees, he had to force himself to remain standing.

"You are _so_ beautiful," he whispered to her, keeping his voice low to try and control its trembling, "You're beautiful because you're so brave, Isobel," he kissed her cheek tenderly, "I love you. To me you're the most beautiful woman in the world."

She stared at him for a moment, wide-eyed, as if her breath had been taken away by this confession. Then she tilted her head forwards, capturing Richard's lips again, kissing him as intensely as she could. Her hand rested on the back of his neck, holding on to him as if for dear life. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing heavily as she pulled away from him.

"Isobel," he squeezed the hand of hers that he was still holding, "Will you come with me? I want to show you something."

Her eyes opened, and slowly she nodded. He waited until he had her absolute permission before leading her out of the drawing room and through into the private sitting room at the other side of the house that he knew she used only when she was at home alone and there were no visitors. At the back of the room was the large circular window looking out onto the night in the garden of the house. The darkness of the clear night gave the glass windows a reflective quality, surrounding them both in an enormous concave mirror. He held her by the hand, standing her in the centre of it, close to the glass.

"Now, look," he told her, "What do you see?"

"I see us," she replied, "I see, me, and you. Together."

He moved to stand behind her a little, placing a hand gently on her shoulder.

"Can I tell you what I see?" he asked quietly.

He felt her nod, her head brushed his gently as he rested his temple against hers, leaning softly in to her as he watched her in the mirror.

"I see you," he told her, "You're all I see, Isobel, when I walk into a room, no matter who else is there. I see you looking as beautiful as the first day I saw you," his arms were circled around her middle, "You won't ever not be beautiful to me, Isobel," he pressed a kiss into her cheek, "My darling. Do you need me to go on?"

She turned around looking at him, tears dancing in her eyes once more. But her lips were smiling.

"No, Richard, I don't," she leant in towards him, kissing his lips, "Thank you," she whispered, "Thank you."

He kissed her in return, smiling against her mouth as she parted her lips, allowing him access to her mouth. Their kiss deepened, and their arms wrapped around each other tightly, their bodies pressed together with blissful closeness. The effect she had on him was heady and startling, and he tried to lean away from her a little to avoid alarming her. But as soon as she realised what he was doing she only moved closer to him, her hand slipping gently down to his lower back, holding him where he was. His lips left hers for a second and he looked at her questioningly.

"Richard, I want you," she murmured to him.

There was the slightest pause.

"Are you sure?" he whispered, resting a careful hand on her shoulder.

"Yes," she replied quietly, smiling, "Of course I'm sure. I love you too. And I want you."

"Alright," he leant in and kissed her softly, "Alright."

His hand in hers again, he began to lead her away but she stood still where she was. Again, he looked at her, needing her to explain.

"Richard," she asked softly, "Will you make love to me here?"

He had to admit, she surprised him there.

"Here?" he asked.

"Yes, here," she confirmed, dropping his hand and leaning on the arm of the couch she stood beside, "On this couch."

He swallowed hard.

"Whatever you want," he murmured, "I'm yours to command."

**Please review if you have the time. **


	2. Chapter 2

**I feel terrible about how slowly I'm writing this, and I thought that if I published it I might get a boost and write the next chapter a bit more quickly, hence stopping in a quite random place. Probably has a lot to do with my life being a mess of my own making at present. Hope it's ok. **

The couch was broad and soft, deep with cushions and high sides. It had no back, and he surprised her by pulling her suddenly into his arms and lifting her off her feet. She had been about to kiss him, and she gasped against his mouth, suddenly so much closer to him. He kissed her in return, meeting her lips very firmly indeed as he carried her around the couch, placing her gently down to lie on the cushions.

Standing back up a little, needing a moment to regain control of his own balance, he cast his eyes over her body. The beads on her dark dinner dress glimmered in the soft light from the room. The light flickered in them as her body undulated with her gentle breathing. She lay, her hands unassumingly at her sides, on hand a little bent at the wrist and resting gently on her stomach, pale skin on dark silk, her head tilted a little at an angle, looking up at him. Their eyes met.

"Richard," she murmured, barely louder than a breath, "Richard."

There was a note of pleading in her voice; she wanted him back with her, close to her. Willingly, he sank back down to the floor, on his knees, kneeling beside the couch so that he could kiss her. He cupped her face, their tongues playing with one another. She moaned against his lips, humming with contentedness and still asking for more.

"Richard, darling," she told him, "Come and lie next to me. Come on," she shuffled a little to the side, "There's plenty of room."

Swiftly, he stepped from the floor onto the couch, stretching his body out beside hers. They smiled at one another as he pulled her back into his arms, pressing her body close to his, her toeing her shoes off at the same time. He heard her give a low but happy laugh as they clattered to the floor and felt her almost squirm with pleasure as their hips met. Carefully, he let his hand wander from where it rested at her waist up to her breast, resting there and then pressing gently over her dress and corset. She gave a satisfied sigh.

"Yes, Richard, more," she told him, "Like that. That's it, darling."

He met her lips once more, kissing her quickly, before allowing his lips to trail down over her jaw to her neck. He ran his tongue gently along her collarbone, nuzzling in the hollow of her throat, squeezing both her breasts more firmly this time. He loved the way her body seemed to rise into his as he did so, as she took a heavy breath.

"Isobel," he murmured against her skin, "I love you but-...I need to take your dress off. Can I?"

She almost beamed at him, but she looked at him, biting her lip gently.

"There shouldn't be a 'but' in that sentence," she told him slowly, reaching her hand out, brushing his cheek with her fingers, "You love me _so _you're going to take my dress off," her smile widened a touch at the look on his face, "Of course you can."

He took her hand in his, drawing it down to his lips, kissing her knuckles carefully. Then he sat up quickly, helping her to do so too.

"Hang on," she told him, reaching round to undo the hooks on the back of her dress, "It's best if I do this. This dress was not made with this in mind, unfortunately. There, that's it."

Her dress sagged a little at the front as the fastenings opened at the back and he lifted the material away from her as carefully as he could.

"Throw it on the floor," she told him, as he held the dress in his hands, "It doesn't matter."

He did so, casting his eyes up at her as soon as he saw the last of the fabric flutter to the ground. His breath was nearly taken away; she was a vision before him. Her hair was a little ruffled, just beginning to tumble down. The skin at the top of her corset was pale, smooth, flawless and inviting. He felt a lump form in his throat as he took in the sight of her in her underwear; her corset and knickers dark silk like her dress, and thighs, parted a little on the couch, clad in black stockings.

He looked up at her face and he hoped she could tell from his eyes how he felt, how much she overwhelmed him, because he wouldn't trust his voice to work. Lying a hand tenderly on her hip, he drew her close to him.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered to her, his lips on hers again, kissing her so softly.

She was trembling a little under his touch, and he pulled back a little.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yes," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion and with passion, "Oh, yes."

He sunk his head gently back to her, kissing the swell of her bosom over her corset. She moaned, griping tightly onto his shoulders.

"Take it off, Richard," she told him breathlessly, "It's alright."

He did not waste time, he removed it as deftly as he could, dropping it onto the floor with her dress. She flushed a little as he took in the sight of her. But, leaning forwards, he groaned taking her nipple into his mouth and he heard her gasp quietly. He touched her as much as he could, breathing with his mouth on her skin. Carefully his hand dipped down between her legs, touching her through her silk knickers. He heard her surprised breathed sharply against his ear and he smiled, she had been expecting him to tell her before he did that. He looked up and into her eyes, finding them swimming with passion and pleasure. Her mouth was half open and, not removing his fingers, he leant up back to her and captured her lips with his own.

**Please review if you have the time.**


	3. Chapter 3

**This chapter was a bit easier to write, but I'm unsure about whether to continue any further. Just say if you want more. **

Her hips rolled forward and she panted into his mouth as their lips met. He looked into her eyes, pulling away slowly. He thought for a moment she was about to fall backwards onto the sofa, and put his other hand in the small of her back to catch her lower her softly, but she did not, she only swayed a little, her body undulating gently, and came back to him, breathing deeply. His other hand slipped downwards, under the waist of her knickers, gently brushing her folds for the first time. Her eyes widened and she gasped.

"Yes, Richard."

She had his shirt front open, his bowtie discarded on the floor, and she was leaning forwards, trying to kiss his chest, but he lifted her chin gently with his fingers, making her stop.

"Isobel," he murmured, "I want this to be about you."

She blinked heavily as his fingers moved against her, he saw her thighs tense.

"It is-... I-... I want to-..." she could barely form an articulate sentence as he moved his fingers against her.

"And you can," he told her, "Next time, I promise. But now, Isobel, just lie down."

He withdrew his hand, waiting for her to do so, refusing to do more until she did. A second later, seeing that he would not be swayed, she complied, stretching back, looking up at him with wide, dark eyes and an inviting, languid smile spreading across her lips. Leaning forwards again, brushing his fingers against her thigh, he undid her suspenders one after the other, pushing her tights down her legs and pulling them off. A moment later, slipping his hands under the silk once more, he pushed her knickers down her legs, discarding them on the floor with the rest of her clothes.

He knelt there between her legs, looking at her body, taking in the sight of her.

"Don't tell me you're not beautiful," he told her quietly, gently, "You're incredible, Isobel."

He held her eyes and though her mouth parted a little her words of protest were not given the chance to sound. Reaching forwards, he cupped both of her breasts in his hands, rubbing his thumbs firmly over her nipples. His lips sank gently against her jaw.

"But you've been in black so long," he continued, in little more than a whisper, so close to her ear, "Isobel, please," he heard his own voice quiver slightly, "You are so beautiful. I want you to be able to live again, like you did. You were all the colours of the earth, Isobel. You still are. But-... I don't want to tell you what to-... But-... It kills me to see you the way you have been. I want to make you feel alive again. Will you let me do that? Now, like this, and-... tomorrow. Forever. Will you let me?"

He felt her shudder underneath him and he wondered if she was crying. But she was not, he saw, when he pulled away a little.

"Yes," she whispered in reply, her voice almost harsh with emotion, "Richard, make me feel alive. Please."

He bowed his head back to her jaw, kissing her, kissing her collarbone, the valley between her breasts, her stomach, her hipbone. Her hand wound tightly into his hair, holding him forcefully close.

"Isobel," he told her, his head resting of her hip, "Darling. Look in the window." 

"What?" she asked, perplexed.

"Just, look," he told her, punctuating his command with sinking kisses.

He knew what she saw when she did, he knew as he sank his head between her legs, kissing her centre, that she saw them together, tangled together on the plush sofa they had claimed for their own- that they had made into their own velvet world of pleasure- her legs wrapped around his upper body as he bent forwards between her thighs, worshipping her with his mouth. He knew she saw her own body stretched back, breathing deeply as he pleasured her, saw the look on her own face, washed with lust and passion. She gasped in shocked surprise, the sound light, and, he deemed a second later, delighted.

"Isobel," he murmured, his mouth still against her, his voice causing vibrations that made her cry out, "You're beautiful, Isobel. Especially when you're like this."

He cast his eyes up and saw that she was staring at their reflections in the glass. The sight had transfixed her. She saw it all, drinking in the sight as he had taken in the sight of her body a moment ago. His tongue worked between her thighs, slipping inside her, bringing her to peak of pleasure that made her back arch off the sofa.

"It's alright," he told her, moving up her body quickly to take her in his arms and hold her, "It's alright, Isobel."

"Richard, Richard," she shook violently against his chest, "Oh, God."

"It's alright," he whispered again, kissing her forehead.

At last she stilled. And laughed; a low, happy laugh. He shifted a little, disconcerted.

"What?" he asked her.

"Oh, God, Richard," she smiled happily up at him, "What have you done to me?"

Her voice sighed with happiness even as she said it.

"Was it not," he took her hand, raising it to his lips, kissing her fingers, tenderly at first, and then more seductively, "What you wanted?"

Her eyes fell shut.

"Oh," her breath seemed to shudder from her, "It was everything I wanted. _Everything_. Thank you, Richard, thank you."

He placed another kiss on her fingers.

"Don't mention it," he told her, "I wanted to do that, for you."

Another smile. And a slight shiver.

"Come here," he told her, pulling her closer against his chest and then removing his own shirt, draping it around her shoulders, "You're going to get cold."

She shook her head, smiling.

"I'm not cold," she replied "Not with you here."

Their eyes met. It was his turn to shudder.

"Oh, God, Isobel," he murmured.

She kissed him, capturing his lips with great certainty, verging on force, exciting him immensely.

"Come on," he told her when they broke apart, "Let's go up to bed."

"Oh no," she murmured, "I want to stay here." 

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yes," he caught the look in her eye, and understood what she meant- and it sent a thrill through his body- as she said, "I like it here."

**Please review if you have the time. **


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